Gemotions

The wind howled, rattling the branches of the ancient oak that marked the boundary of our properties. It was a sturdy old tree, but I knew Mr. Garcia, my neighbor, was having trouble with it.

He looked haggard when he approached my back door. "The insurance company... they're saying it's a hazard. Branches are falling."

A pang of sympathy hit me. I knew he had been struggling lately, dealing with a recent illness.

I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't you worry about it, Mr. Garcia. I’ll make the call, get the inspection done. Whatever needs to happen, we'll take care of it, together. You just focus on getting better."